It’s understood that there isn’t any equality in this country amongst the races, and that the underlying foundations of the Social Contract in the Constitution stated that affirmative action would be taken to allow the Bumiputeras to advance themselves at a level that was found to be on par with the other two dominating races. It was also understood, and accepted, that this would also be a permanent arrangement of sorts in order to grant citizenship rights to the two main factions that had somehow found their way into the country: the Chinese and the Indians. It was also stated that Islam would be the official religion of the nation, but that the country would not be an Islamic state. This was drafted out, agreed upon and accepted for the better part of the last four decades.

When you compare the Malaysia of today to the Malaysia of yore, things are (obviously) better today. Critique it as you will, but widespread education is provided for the children. The Klang Valley’s development has branched out into its surrounding satellite cities, and in turn, development has taken a regional stance; the Government has taken measures to ensure that development is spread out throughout the regions, and eventually positive changes will also be heralded in East Malaysia. The fact that we’re blessed with relative safety and security and a lack of rampant extremism (when compared to the world around us) should already make us realize that things aren’t too shabby.

But it’s in the intricacies of the execution in which we see the cracks. The dubious allocation of funds in general. The Government’s adversity to investigating problems proactively as opposed to offering solutions only when the issues arise. An incredibly opaque (I’d dare to call it solidly blocked) view on transparency, a factor that this current administration ran on without exhaustion in the beginning.

To an extent, all these problems pale in comparison to the fact that we’re all racial bigots in this country. All of us. I heartily believe that we’re all headed toward a general direction of tolerance, as opposed to a state of understanding. And there’s a genuine world of difference between the two. We can be showered with propaganda, telling us that it’s alright, but it’s not. And we know it. There’s a climate of fear, paranoia and distrust; it’s never been more evident than during these last few years.

We’re also guilty of being nonchalant to the troubles around us. Ignorance does bring bliss. To an extent. But to pilfer from the Manics, if you tolerate this, then your children will be next.

I just wish that we could all pry ourselves from all the arguments over who has the true rights to live on this land and transcend that line of thought to pull ourselves together and make a better
future for everyone.

Am I a patriot for saying that we’re all fucked if we continue in this direction? Yes. I’m as much as a patriot as every one of you to your respective nations.

It’s just so strange; the values and ideals that founded this country in the very beginning have been bastardized and muddled during the last 50 years. The next 50 will probably be just as chaotic and confusing…only that there’d be more of the sour than the sweet.

Bangsa Malaysia. T’was a great idea. Where the fuck did it go?

For someone who’d rather avoid confrontations, I’m highly prone to ruffle feathers a bit too much. Whether or not it was something that I was imbued with at birth, or something that I’ve picked up whilst feeling the pain of losing skirts to philanthropic playboy poseurs, my tendency to annoy and repel people with only the lightest of easy has yet to be surmounted or outdone. I suppose it’s more of a passive ability than anything else. It’s a reflex action.

They say that humour can be a saving grace in the gravest of situations. If that’s the case, it’s safe to say that my life has been one of hell of a tragedy. If only that were true.

I don’t spend my time picking fights with a shortlist of people; I find that I get bounded over in the most unusual of situations. The only real fight that I’ve been in saw me get bounded over; not because I was a pushover, but because I was punched at the back, without any forewarning, or even a witty quip (’Hey, fat-ass, whoop-ass is here!’).

No. I wasn’t even granted that luxury. Someone was jealous that my geography teacher had made a remark about how I was sharing a textbook with a girl he fancied. This was in Year 7/Form 1. Schoolyard fights were few, and far between. And it’s not like I even got to pull a punch.

I was an overweight dweeb. And I still am. And mighty proud of it. I’d probably excrete whatever testosterone you’d give me. Though I’ve never had a secret wish to have adamantium bonded to my skeleton. Or to become the Thing. Or even Superman, for that matter. Superman’s a pussy. Captain America’s a hero. (I wouldn’t mind picking a fight with you if you’re a fanboy who disagrees with me on this one.)

I suppose that I’d take the Alan Shore option and pay a bunch of barflies a good deal of money to beat someone up when it comes to a bar fight. It saves me the trouble. And it wouldn’t crease my suit.

Plus, despite not being much of a fighter, I’m also not much of a lover, either. So I suppose that it doesn’t work both ways.

Back to the drawing board, then.

In a nutshell, whether you’re wagging a keris around in a show of supremacy or making a video to ‘unintentionally’ drive the supremacy on both sides to a boiling point, you’ve got to love this country for its cheap thrills.

Once again (as is usually the case), a whole new wave of paranoia on both sides of the racial divide is brimming.

And once again, while a bunch of boys with atrocious grammar and pockmarked faces flame each other needlessly and endlessly on message boards over a video with incredibly bad rapping and bad production values whilst arguing over who’s got the bigger phallus (no doubt while simultaneously rubbing their respective cones to stimulation), I’d like to remind everyone to come to JamAsia on Friday, September the 28th.

Because good taste is always around. In liberal doses.